


Three-am Sorrows

by Rosetylars



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Post Episode: s02e09 The Satan Pit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetylars/pseuds/Rosetylars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor cannot sleep, plagued with thoughts of the Satan Pit and the Time War. Rose helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three-am Sorrows

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC!

The TARDIS was always a great deal quieter while Rose slept. It lacked her and the Doctor's chatter; their conversations that only ever came to a close when she turned in for the night. The Doctor usually tried to keep himself busy; tinkering with wires under the grating that never seemed to do their job properly, or reattaching bits and bobs that had broken off from the console during particularly rough landings. The usual. 

This night, however, was different. The Doctor could not keep his thoughts from Rose. Not in the normal way, either; not how much fun they had on the day's adventures, or how much he loved making her smile... Tonight, his thoughts were just on Rose, whom he almost lost forever. The black hole that almost swallowed her up was an image that burned the inside of his eyelids, never dulling, never relenting. He knew that trying to distract himself was a lost cause. The hours she spent sleeping always left him feeling at least a little lonely, his partner in crime not there to joke with, to talk with, or to smile with. 

In her hours of wakefulness, Rose always knew when he was thinking about the Time War. Remembering. Regretting. Sometimes, she took his mind off of it. She would tell him a story, such as the one about her first pet goldfish at the age of three, which had died within a day of its purchase because she tried to feed it an entire scoop of chocolate ice cream for dessert. They would laugh until the darkness left his eyes and the slump left his shoulders.

Other times, though, she helped him through it. Reminded him that she was there, and he was no longer alone. But, this was hard to believe when it was two in the morning (relative time, of course) and he was mentally running through an extensive list of Gallifreyans that would most certainly be dead now, because of the Time War. Because of him. He was shaking, forehead beaded with sweat. 

Perhaps he needed a rare rest himself. He headed for bed. His room was cool but he did not care for blankets at the moment, laying on top of his covers. He spent few nights in his own room; he barely slept anyway, but if he needed to, he and Rose could always manage to come up with an excuse for him to need to be in hers. 

A fitful hour passed. The ship sent him telepathic waves of comfort, but he shielded his mind from them. Too many deaths by his hand. He deserved no comfort. He got up from his bed and shed his suit-jacket. The TARDIS was trying to compensate for what he was feeling, cooling the interior drastically, aside Rose's room. But he was still too hot. Too hot, too angry with himself. He stormed into the kitchen and sat in Rose's place at the table, which only made him more furious with himself for putting her in the day's situation, which almost saw her fall into a black hole. How could he have let himself put her in so much danger? He lay his head on the table in front of him, the cold marble tabletop a welcome relief from the sweltering heat that was regret. 

The Doctor was no nearer to rest a quarter of an hour later, when he heard a soft noise in the kitchen doorway behind him. 

"Doctor?" Rose whispered, approaching his slumped figure at the table. 

He sat up enough that he could see her. "Rose," he rasped. It was all he could get out. 

She sat next to him, brushed his unruly hair away from his face with her fingers, and noticed how unwell he looked. "How long have you been in here, Doctor? It's past three in the morning. And, your skin is freezing," she noted. 

"I didn't want to wake you," he almost sobbed.

"Hey," she murmured, using two fingers to life his head up to face her, "hey. Doctor, everything's alright now. We're away from the black hole-"

"It's not just that," he interjected, head in his hands.

Rose clasped his hand. "Here, you need some rest. Come to bed, we can talk it over, alright?” 

He nodded, grateful, as they rose from their seats. They began their short journey to her bedroom. 

"And, Doctor? In future, always wake me. Whenever you need me, wake me." Rose's expression was solemn. 

Her door was already ajar and they entered, hand in hand. The bedsheets were rumpled on one side; she had woken and heard him moving about from room to room. She knew something was wrong because he normally stayed in the console room or the TARDIS library while she slept. She had gone to find the Doctor, and that had led to her meeting him in the kitchen.

She lay down on the rumpled side of the bed, patting the space on her right, inviting him to lie next to her. He did so, and she raised herself up on an elbow to see him better. "It wasn't your fault," she whispered after a short while. 

"It was my choice, my hand," he stared at the ceiling. "My guilt," he added after a pause.

"You ended it all before there was nothing left to save," she grabbed his hand, "you saved the universe."

"Billions dead because of me, and more die by my actions all the time. All of those Ood yesterday. It wasn't their fault, what happened, and now they're all dead." He paused, and then said suddenly, "Rose."

She was surprised at this change of direction. "Yeah?"

He rolled onto his side, looking up at her. "How do you stay with me, when all I do is swan around and leave death and destruction in my wake?"

Rose lay down to mirror his position. "Doctor," she said, her tone deeply serious, "you are the best man I know. You constantly put everyone before yourself, and you prove it more and more every day. Last week, with the Wire, you risked your life on that transmission tower to save..." the word 'me' hung in the air between them, not needing to be said aloud, "...everyone the Wire had taken. Dozens of lives." She paused. "What happened on Gallifrey was not good, it wasn't glorious or ideal. But you, you had the courage to step up and end it all before it was too late. If you'd have left it longer, the universe would have torn itself to shreds, right?"

He nodded slightly, and laced his fingers through hers.

Her voice was lower than a whisper now. "You did what you had to do, and you saved the universe. And today, it was the same. If that... beast... thing got out and into the cosmos, who knows what kind of destruction it could have brought. You saved us. You saved me," she voiced what she didn't have the courage to say just minutes ago. 

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. He was speechless. Here Rose was, helping him through not only the trauma of the previous day, but also the guilt that had plagued him for years and years. He mused; how had he been so lucky, to have a companion so understanding as Rose? All he could say was a heartfelt, "Thank you." The words were imbued with all he couldn't voice; appreciation, admiration, love...

"Do you think you can sleep, now?" She asked, not unkindly.

He managed his first genuine smile for the evening. "Yeah. Thanks, Rose. For everything."

Together they lay, and had their first restful, tranquil night's sleep in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Pretty please leave some feedback, any constructive criticism or comments in general would be greatly appreciated :)


End file.
